THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


C- 


A  HANDFUL  OF  PEBBLES 


BY 


ABBY    HUTCHINSON   PATTON 


Gerit  —  Crucem  —  Fortiter 


flrtnteto 


1891 


Copyright,  1891, 
BY  ABBY  HUTCHINSON  PATTON. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Hough  ton  &  Co. 


TO 

JESSE  AND  MARY  LEAVITT  HUTCHINSON 

BY 
THEIR  LOVING  DAUGHTER. 


As  -we  near  the  mystic  river, 

And  our  hands  hold  nothing  more, 

Save  some  small  and  well-worn  pebbles, 

We  have  found  along  the  shore 

Then  -we  say  to  one  beside  us, 

"  Take  this  little  gift  from  me: 

May  it  be  a  sweet  remembrance, 

Till  I  come  again  to  tkee." 

Thus,  dear  friends,  I  give,  unbroken, 

These  few  words  from  heart  and  brain: 

May  they  be  to  you  the  token 

Of  sweet  hope  to  meet  again. 


HE  is  our  friend  who  helps  us  to  one  new  thought, 
or  who  inspires  us  to  one  noble  action. 

The  best  men  are  those  who  bear  a  large  share  of 
their  mother's  nature,  and  the  best  women  those  who 
combine  traits,  both  masculine  and  feminine. 

Passion  without  affection  is  a  pool  filled  with  mi- 
asma and  death ;  but  when  the  springs  of  a  true  love 
run  through  it,  it  becomes  clear  and  translucent,  and 
is  a  sweet  and  living  water. 

The  world  is  more  sick  than  wicked. 

I  awake  in  the  morning,  and  find  a  snow-mantle 
thrown  over  all  the  dark  and  gloomy  ways  of  the  city. 
It  is  like  God's  care  for  his  children,  covering  their 
faults,  but  making  their  virtues  white  and  radiant  in 
the  sunlight  of  his  love. 


It  is  necessary  for  a  large  soul  to  love  largely ;  but 
wisdom  can  enter  into  all  love,  making  it  a  blessing 
instead  of  a  curse. 

Some  natures  are  too  lavish,  and  empty  their  store- 
houses so  freely  as  to  leave  bare  husks  for  themselves ; 
when  one  gives  thus  largely,  one  must  eat  the  bread 
of  heaven,  or  perish. 

When  we  give  our  very  best  wheat  to  our  friends, 
we  are  not  satisfied  to  take  chaff  in  return. 

To  have  found  one  friend  is  vastly  more  than  to 
have  discovered  a  thousand  new  planets. 


We  sail  out  to  a  distant  port,  leaving  behind  our 
loved  ones  ;  God  and  our  own  souls  go  with  us  ;  how 
important  that  we  find  companionship  in  these. 

Some  natures,  like  mignonette,  give  out  delicious 
fragrance  when  left  to  their  own  sweet  wills,  but  one 
touch  of  a  selfish  hand  crushes  out  the  sweetness,  and 
leaves  behind  but  a  soulless  weed. 

Thought,  fully  formed,  pecks  through  its  shell,  and 
becomes  a  bright  winged  creature,  flying  with  glad 
tidings  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth. 


TWO   REQUESTS  GRANTED. 

A  white-haired  pilgrim  by  the  sea 
Spake  thus  in  tones  most  tenderly : 
"  Wouldst  thou  from  pain  and  death  be  free  ? 
Then  cross  with  me." 

And  by  my  side,  as  fair  as  day, 
A  little  child  who  led  my  way 
Cried,  "  Leave  not  this  sweet  land,  I  pray ; 
Dear  papa,  stay." 

Then  to  the  pilgrim,  with  a  smile, 
I  cried,  "  'Tis  but  a  little  while ; 
When  these  small  feet  have  stronger  grown, 
And  this  sweet  child  can  walk  alone, 
Then,  pilgrim,  come  again  for  me, 
I  '11  cross  with  thee." 


10 


Why  should  we  envy  the  skylark  whose  wings  take 
him  far  from  human  sight ;  do  not  we,  on  wings  of 
thought,  soar  higher  than  the  lark  can  ever  go  ? 

No  friendship  is  real  which  cannot  sacrifice  some- 
thing for  the  good  of  its  friend. 

Human  eyes  are  windows  of  the  soul  through  which 
imprisoned  angels  look,  longing  for  freedom. 

We  should  keep  the  paths  of  our  hearts  free  from 
weeds,  would  we  perfect  therein  bright  flowers  and 
pleasant  fruits. 


ii 


The  great  want  of  this  age  is  reverence. 

Woman  without  woman's  love  lives  but  half  a  life ; 
man  without  the  confidence  of  man  is  not  a  fit  com- 
panion for  woman. 

The  soul,  as  well  as  the  body,  must  have  its  grow- 
ing pains. 

The  physician  may  have  the  body  to  dissect  as  far 
as  he  and  science  demand,  but  God  alone  is  to  be 
trusted  with  the  scalpel  for  the  soul. 


12 


However  low  or  debased  a  man  may  seem,  he  never 
gets  quite  away  from  God ;  on  looking  closely  one  is 
sure  to  find  the  divine  spark  where  at  first  one  sees 
ashes  only. 

Snow,  like  charity,  covers  all  imperfections. 

An  earnest  Christian  said  to  me,  If  you  take  away 
the  divinity  of  Christ,  what  will  be  left  for  us  ?  I  re- 
plied, I  would  not  take  away  Christ's  divinity,  I  would 
rather  believe  there  is  divinity  in  all  men. 

Another  Christian  said,  If  you  only  had  faith  in 
Christ,  you  would  be  happy.  I  replied,  My  faith  in  the 
truth  everywhere  is  so  great  I  cannot  long  be  unhappy. 


THE  COZY   CORNER. 

In  a  cozy  corner, 
Safe  and  snug  and  warm, 
Lies  a  little  birdling, 
Sheltered  from  the  storm. 

Little  shining  forehead, 
White  and  pure  and  fair, 
Little  wavy  tresses 
Of  bright  silken  hair. 

Little  pearly  eyelids, 
Shading  eyes  of  blue, 
Little  smiles  and  dimples, 
Little  mouth  so  true. 

Little  rosy  fingers 
Reaching  for  the  light, 
Catching  at  each  shadow 
Passing  out  of  sight. 


And  a  mother  singing 
Soft  and  low  and  sweet, 
Father,  keep  my  darling, 
Guide  his  little  feet. 

Many  steps  and  weary 
In  his  path  may  be ; 
Lead  him  gently,  Father, 
To  his  home  and  Thee. 

In  a  cozy  corner, 
Safe  and  snug  and  warm, 
Lies  a  little  birdling, 
Sheltered  from  the  storm. 

And  this  cozy  corner 
Is  a  mother's  heart, 
Warm  and  pure  and  holy, 
Of  God's  love  a  part. 


One  can  live  quite  alone  in  the  midst  of  a  multitude 
of  people. 

We  may  thank  God  for  all  things,  for  suffering  as 
well  as  for  joy ;  for  how  can  we  truly  know  the  sorrow 
of  others,  except  we  ourselves  first  taste  the  bitter 
waters  ? 

I  would  like  a  new  form  of  ethics,  which  would  per- 
mit us  to  criticise  our  friend  in  his  presence,  and  to 
speak  no  ill  of  him  in  his  absence. 


16 


The  souls  of  some  people  are  shut  up  in  cells  with 
just  a  ray  of  light  looking  out  of  them ;  others  are  all 
soul,  and  radiate  warmth  and  sunshine  wherever  they 
go- 

A  soul  without  passion  is  like  unripe  fruit,  not  un- 
til the  sunshine  of  a  real  love  touches  it  does  it  de- 
velop sweetness  and  perfection. 

There  comes  a  time  when  one  sweet  child  face  is 
more  to  us  than  all  the  world  beside. 


DAISIES   AND  CLOVER. 

Oh,  welcome  me  home,  my  dear  daisies  and  clover, 

Give  greeting  to  me ; 
Lift  up  your  sweet  heads,  and  welcome  your  lover 

From  over  the  sea, 

I  love  your  dear  faces,  my  daisies,  my  clover ; 

My  long  sorrows  flee,- 
As  near  you  in  mist  of  the  morning  I  hover, 

Just  home  from  the  sea. 

My  pure,  honest  daisies,  my  honey-bee  clover, 

No  welcome  can  be 
More  sweet  or  more  warm  to  a  world-weary  rover 

Than  that  you  give  me. 


18 


When  I  am  sleeping,  dear  daisies  and  clover, 

Will  you  bend  over  me, 
And  say  you  are  glad  the  long  journey  is  over, 

The  voyager  free  ? 

My  own  starry  daisies,  my  pink  and  white  clover, 

Oh,  will  you  not  know 

The  long-wearied  heart  which  your  fresh  blossoms 
cover 

Is  resting  below  ? 

Then  welcome  me,  daisies  and  dew-dripping  clover, 

As  I  bend  low  the  knee ; 
I  am  sure  you  must  know  that  your  old-fashioned  lover 

Is  home  from  the  sea. 


Many  are  the  poets  whose  poems  are  written  only 
in  the  heart. 

The  rich  man  gives  gold  and  silver,  the  poor  man 
gives  himself. 

Without  friendship  we  are  unhappy,  with  it  we  are 
still  unsatisfied,  reaching  ever  for  an  ideal  which  we 
can  only  find  in  heaven. 

A  sweet  sinner  is  far  more  attractive  than  a  sour 
saint. 

When  speaking  with  my  friend 

We  disagree, 
When  silent,  our  thoughts  flow 

In  harmony. 


20 


Were  it  not  for  the  impatient  people,  the  world 
would  soon  stand  still. 

The  body  is  circumscribed  in  many  ways,  but  the 
spirit  is  free,  and  reaches  ever  upward  toward  the  light 
of  eternal  day. 

All  the  great  work  and  good  deeds  accomplished 
on  earth  are  instigated  by  ambition  or  love. 

The  scientists,  philosophers,  and  inventors  are  the 
wise  rulers  and  reformers  of  this  age. 


21 


I  have  heard  men  say  that  women  know  nothing  of 
love,  but  there  are  depths  and  depths  in  a  great  wo- 
man's heart  which  few  men  have  ever  yet  sounded. 

When  a  man's  brain  is  wide  as  the  sea,  and  his 
heart  as  deep,  then  may  a  woman  launch  her  richest 
freighted  ships,  knowing  that  they  will  be  borne 
steadily  on,  and  at  last  find  safe  anchorage. 

The  man  of  sentiment  who  is  not  sentimental  is  the 
noblest  Roman  of  them  all 


22 


ONE   NAME. 

Upon  the  silver  shining  sand, 

A  maiden  wrote,  with  loving  hand, 

One  name  —  no  more. 
The  waves  crept  up  with  steady  aim, 
And  washed  away  the  little  name, 

Far  from  the  shore. 

Then  with  a  pen  of  finer  art, 

She  wrote  again,  deep  in  her  heart, 

One  name  —  no  more. 
But  fear  and  doubt  and  wounded  pride 
Soon  drowned  within  the  crimson  tide 

The  word  she  bore. 

"  Yet,"  said  the  maid,  "  through  grief  and  pain, 
Still  will  I  write  on  living  brain 

One  name  —  no  more." 
But  want  and  care  and  added  years 
Buried  in  depths  of  bitter  tears 

The  sign  she  wore. 

Then  cried  the  maid  in  wild  despair, 
"  Is  there  no  safe  place  anywhere, 

By  sea  or  shore, 

In  brain  or  heart? "  The  answer  came, 
God  keepeth  safe  thy  true  love's  name 

Forevermore. 


We  can  never  be  sure  that  we  are  spirits,  until  we 
can  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  and  not  drown,  or 
until  we  can  float  from  a  mountain  top  without  being 
destroyed. 

There  are  days  when  our  feet  take  wing  and  skim 
along  the  earth  as  do  the  swallows. 

No  man  can  do  well  the  cold  work  of  the  world  who 
starts  not  warm  from  the  fire  of  a  true  woman's  heart. 

We  should  cherish  the  mothers  of  the  land,  making 
them  the  great  high  priestesses  and  saints. 


It  is  said  that  God  tempers  the  wind  to  the  shorn 
lamb ;  it  would  be  more  true  to  say  that  God  teaches 
the  shorn  lamb,  as  best  he  may,  to  temper  himself  to 
the  wind. 

Sooner  or  later,  I  believe  that  we  suffer  all  that  we 
have  ever  caused  others  to  suffer. 

In  the  presence  of  sweet  liars,  it  is  refreshing  as  a 
breath  of  ocean  air  to  hear  a  well-timed  epithet  from 
the  lips  of  an  honest  man. 

Love  is  Heaven,  jealousy  Hell;  both  can  exist  in 
one  mind. 

The  smallest  words  often  give  us  the  deepest  sorrow. 


In  supreme  moments  we  believe  there  is  no  death. 

We  trouble  ourselves  greatly  because  we  cannot  see 
into  a  distant  future;  but  what  know  we  of  the  future 
of  the  next  hour,  or  even  of  the  next  moment  ?  A 
greater  power  is  guiding  us,  as  we  guide  ships  at  sea. 

The  greatest  proof  I  have  of  immortality  is  this 
constant  longing  of  the  mind  for  something  better.  I 
do  not  believe  physical  elements  have  aspirations  akin 
to  this. 

One  arrow-tipped  word  from  a  venomous  tongue 
will  poison  the  sweetness  of  a  whole  day. 


26 


The  greatest  skeptics  often  become  the  greatest  be- 
lievers. 

When  we  are  happy,  all  the  people  we  meet  look 
beautiful  to  us  ;  but  when  an  eclipse  is  over  us,  we  see 
faces  as  through  a  glass  darkly. 

We  sometimes  live  a  thousand  lives  in  one  day; 
again  we  die  a  thousand  deaths. 

We  all  hate  shams  in  general,  but  in  reality  we  all 
have  our  pet  shams. 


27 


Come  thou  sweet  Psyche,  haunt  my  spirit  ever, 
Threads  of  thy  hair  are  sunbeams  to  my  heart ; 
Weave  them,  and  wind  them  round  my  soul  forever, 
From  thy  sweet  presence  I  no  more  would  part. 


II. 


Be  thou  the  sunshine  to  my  heart  of  sorrow, 
Thine  be  the  noontide,  mine  the  evening  hour ; 
Thus  mingled  in  one  stream,  the  glad  to-morrow 
Of  light  and  shade  brings  forth  the  perfect  flower. 


28 


On  leaving  friends,  we  have  a  sense  of  deep  loneli- 
ness, but  we  would  be  more  lonely  had  we  no  friends 
to  leave. 

Some  days  I  would  give  all  I  possess  for  a  run  on 
the  mountains.  When  the  city  walls  me  in,  then  I  build 
mountains  of  fancy,  and  dwell  on  them. 

We  love  sunshine,  but  the  wildest  storms  are  more 
akin  to  some  moods  of  the  mind. 

In  this  age  of  high  living,  we  need  more  days  of 
fasting  and  prayer. 


When  men  count  their  riches  as  greater  than  human 
hearts,  they  are  growing  poorer  every  day. 

God  bless  the  poets  and  singers,  yea,  and  all  those 
who  cannot  sing,  but  whose  work,  be  it  ever  so  hum- 
ble, is  full  of  music  to  the  ear  of  God. 

With  extreme  radicals  I  have  always  felt  myself 
conservative,  with  extreme  conservatives,  a  thorough 
radical. 


In  Florida  one  dreams  all  the  day  long,  and  day 
after  day  the  dream  lasts  until  one  asks  himself  when 
he  shall  waken  to  a  sharp  reality. 

To-day  we  found  the  yellow  jasmine.  It  is  subtle, 
and  rich  in  odor,  and  makes  one  dreamy  as  a  lotos- 
eater. 

Some  memories  have  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  but 
no  language  ever  yet  described  the  fragrance  of 
flowers. 

How  many  can  say  that  they  have  in  one  day  ac- 
complished all  the  work  they  have  planned  to  do  ? 


A  HANDFUL  OF   FLOWERS. 

PANSY  (PENSEE). 

A  penny  for  your  thought,  I  cried 
To  a  sweet  maiden  yesterday ; 

Je  pense,  je  pense  a  vous,  she  sighed, 
Then  quick  as  thought  she  ran  away. 

MARGUERITE. 

He  loves  me,  he  loves  me  not, 
Slowly  the  daisy  petals  fell ; 

And  while  she  lingered,  lost  in  thought, 
A  rich  voice  echoed  from  the  dell, 
Sweet  Marguerite,  he  loves  you  well. 


FORGET-ME-NOT. 

I  wandered  late  one  summer  day 

Beside  a  purling  meadow  brook ; 
Blue  eyes  were  leading  me  away, 

Blue  flowers  from  fairy  hands  I  took. 
And  this  the  rhythm,  this  the  tune 
I  heard  that  balmy  day  in  June, 
Will  you  forget  me,  —  oh,  forget  me  not. 

Forget  you,  never,  though  I  go 

To  lands  far  distant  as  Cathay ; 
The  eyes,  the  flowers,  the  sunset  glow, 

Will  ever  in  my  memory  stay. 
And  still  I  hear  the  self-same  tune 
I  heard  that  blessed  day  in  June, 
Will  you  forget  me, — oh,  forget  me  not. 
NEW  YORK,  May  7,  1888. 


33 


Never  yet  have  I  come  in  possession  of  facts  worth 
knowing,  that  I  have  not  wished  to  impart  the  same 
to  others. 

We  are  students,  or  teachers,  all  through  life. 

Music  is  a  universal  language,  and  it  needs  no  in- 
terpreter to  make  it  understood  by  all  nations. 

One  hour  of  deep  belief  is  worth  a  lifetime  of 
skepticism,  yet  one  must  nearly  always  be  a  skeptic 
before  one  becomes  a  full  believer. 


34 


Why  are  weak  men  always  called  effeminate,  and 
strong  women  masculine?  Cannot  a  woman  have 
strength  of  character,  and  yet  be  womanly,  and  a  man 
be  gentle,  and  yet  thoroughly  manly  ? 

In  a  long  lifetime  I  have  seen  but  few  men  who  are 
thoroughly  just  to  women. 

He  who  created  man  and  woman  made  them  to  be 
forever  enigmas  to  each  other.  The  wisest  philoso- 
phers of  all  ages  have  found  this  problem  too  deep  for 
solution. 


35 


A  friend  says  to  me  that  we  have  in  Jesus  a  revealed 
religion.  I  reply  that  from  the  beginning  the  Creator 
has  in  many  ways  revealed  himself  to  man,  and  that 
his  revelations  do  not  begin  or  end  in  the  person  of 
one  human  being. 

Were  Jesus  to  visit  the  earth  now  He  might  be  sur- 
prised to  find  how  many  strange  creeds  and  dogmas 
have  been  promulgated  in  his  name. 

The  simple  religton  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is 
broad  enough  to  embrace  all  nations. 

A  few  through  suffering  grow  unselfish,  but  often 
the  bitterness  of  life  will  make  sweet  natures  hard  and 
bitter  also. 

Jesus  was  not  the  only  one  who  carried  the  cross. 


Man's  life  on  earth  is  so  short  that  he  needs  not 
war  to  hasten  his  own  or  his  neighbor's  destruction. 

In  this  age  of  enlightenment  nations  should  go  to 
war  no  more. 

I  believe  in  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness for  all,  and  in  the  greatest  good  for  the  greatest 
number. 

The  only  way  we  can  forgive  some  people  is  to 
think  that  God  is  willing  to  forgive  us. 


37 


As  the  pebble  on  the  sea, 
So,  my  love,  my  love  to  thee ; 
Rings  its  circles  far  and  free, 
Widening  through  Eternity. 


Some  natures,  like  autumn  foliage,  grow  deeper 
toned  as  they  ripen,  and  bear  with  them  a  glory  which 
even  the  freshness  of  youth  cannot  take  away. 

In  the  town  we  are  crowded  like  trees  in  the  forest; 
we  need  open  fields  would  we  spread  our  branches 
and  grow  symmetrical  in  every  direction. 

One  who  is  fully  occupied  in  doing  good  has  no 
time  in  which  to  do  evil. 

Temperance  in  all  things  is  religion. 


39 


Some  people  talk  of  the  great  deeds  they  are  going 
to  do,  others  do  them. 

He  who  has  large  ideals  must  suffer  more  than  he 
whose  life  runs  ever  on  in  the  even  tenor  of  common- 
place. 

Flattery  is  more  agreeable  to  most  ears  than  truth ; 
and  the  strongest  man  is  hardly  proof  against  sweet- 
sounding  words.  • 

Those  are  so-called  happy  families  where  the  man 
is  tyrant,  and  his  meek  little  wife  stands  by  like  a 
sheep  not  daring  to  say  Baa. 


40 


It  is  difficult  for  many  positive  people  to  dwell  to- 
gether except  they  are  positively  broad  minded. 

When  a  woman  is  encouraged  to  fill  her  mind  with 
the  jewels  of  thought,  she  will  need  less  personal 
adornment  to  make  herself  attractive. 

In  a  half  century  I  have  seen  many  more  heroic 
women  than  men. 

I  have  also  seen  quite  as  many  practical  Christians 
out  of  churches  as  in  them. 

The  mind  can  always  plan  more  than  the  body  can 
perform. 


It  is  more  easy  to  sympathize  with  the  sorrows  of 
others  than  it  is  to  be  brave  and  patient  with  the  sor- 
rows of  our  own  hearts. 

One  great  friendship  is  parent  to  a  thousand  smaller 
friendships. 

It  is  better  to  improve  our  own  time  than  to  trouble 
ourselves  about  how  our  neighbors  spend  theirs. 

The  best  religion  is  that  which  makes  the  best 
society. 


42 


TO    MARY. 

Into  a  calm,  fresh,  woody  place, 

I  roamed  to-day, 

Far,  far  away ; 
And  near  me,  in  its  own  sweet  grace, 

I  saw  your  face. 

A  daisy  by  the  roadside  grew, 

Free,  but  not  bold, 

With  heart  all  gold, 
And  there,  dear  child,  I  thought  of  you 

Whose  heart  is  true. 

Sweet  summer  stirred  in  every  breeze ; 

And  leafy  June 

Was  full  atune 
To  song  of  b'irds  and  hum  of  bees 

And  waving  trees. 

I  heard  the  river  flowing  by, 

Songful  and  free, 

Down  to  the  sea; 
It  sang  of  life  and  love,  and  joy 

.And  purity. 

When  weary  with  the  haunts  of  men, 

The  noise  and  strife, 

You  seek  new  life, 
Come,  find  within  this  leafy  glen, 

Sweet  rest  again. 
43 


Men  fear  men  more  than  they  do  God,  and  they 
dread  opinions  of  the  daily  press  more  than  they  do 
all  the  wrath  in  the  sacred  writings. 

Man  disguises  himself  before  man,  but  he  is  not 
afraid  to  show  his  real  nature  to  his  God. 

It  is  not  for  us  to  judge  our  brothers ;  we  judge 
from  our  own  imperfect  knowledge ;  the  Creator  alone 
is  judge  of  his  own  handiwork,  whether  it  be  good  or 
evil.' 


44 


I  have  always  been  a  hero  worshiper,  and  have 
never  been  able  to  make  mammon  stand  for  man. 

We  accomplish  but  little  in  life  by  trying  to  do 
too  many  things.  It  takes  one  lifetime  to  learn  how 
to  live. 

When  a  man  says  he  wishes  his  wife  had  tact,  we 
may  be  sure  that  he  does  not  wish  her  to  have  a  mind 
of  her  own,  but  always  to  agree  with  him. 

Tact  oftentimes  means  deception. 

We  forgive  most  those  whom  we  most  love. 


45 


THE   OLD,  OLD   STORY. 

Two  children  wandering  hand  in  hand  by  the  sea, 
singing  songs  of  praise.  The  wind  blowing  fresh  in 
their  faces,  and  the  beautiful  green  waves  dancing  in 
the  light  of  the  morning  sun.  No  sound  came  from 
the  rude  world,  not  even  the  song-bird's  note  was 
heard  —  only  the  voices  of  the  noble  youth  and  the 
pure  and  truthful  maiden.  At  their  feet  were  white 
and  lovely  shells,  which  they  gathered  and  tosSed  into 
the  sea.  Yet  no  shell  was  whiter  than  the  souls  of 
the  youth  and  maiden,  and  no  water  purer  than  their 
words  to  each  other.  When  the  sweet  song  of  praise 
ended,  the  youth  said,  "  Little  maiden,  shall  I  tell  you 
a  very  old,  old  story  ? "  and  the  maiden,  looking  into 
his  deep,  honest  eyes,  replied,  "  Tell  me  the  story."  In 
a  voice  low  and  musical  he  repeated  to  her  the  old, 
old  story.  She  bent  low  to  catch  the  words,  and  at 
the  sound  her  own  voice  died  away  and  she  heard  his 


voice  alone  and  her  own  beating  heart ;  but  the  little 
waves  listened  and  caught  the  words  intended  for  the 
maiden's  ear,  and  they  ran  down  to  the  large  waves, 
and  said,  "  We  heard  the  old,  old  story,"  —  and  the 
large  waves  said,  "  Tell  us,  and  we  will  take  it  to 
every  shore."  The  winds  also,  that  played  in  the 
hair  of  the  maiden,  heard  and  said,  "  We  too  will 
carry  this  story  on  the  wings  of  air  to  all  the  world." 
And  the  sunbeams  said,  "  We  will  travel  faster  than 
wind  and  waves,  and  flash  this  truth  into  the  hearts 
of  all  mankind."  And  the  waves  and  winds  and  sun- 
beams danced  in  glee,  as  if  new  life  had  possessed 
them.  But  above  all,  the  hearts  of  the  youth  and 
maiden  sang  a  song  so  full  of  praise  and  joy  that  the 
spirits  of  the  air  caught  it,  and  more  swiftly  than  wind, 
or  waves,  or  light,  they  flew  with  it  to  the  angels  and 
cried,  "  We  have  brought  you  an  old,  old,  story ; "  and 
the  angels,  smiling,  said,  "  We  already  know  it.  It  is 
old,  yet  new  forevermore." 


47 


In  all  our  wanderings  through  foreign  lands,  we 
have  found  a  sweet  song  to  be  the  open  sesame  to  all 
hearts. 

It  seems  a  strange  paradox,  that  when  the  heart  is 
set  in  motion,  it  beats  one  more  and  one  less  beat 
until  life  closes. 

The  education  of  woman  has  been  too  much  in  the 
home,  that  of  man  too  much  away  from  home;  a  fair 
exchange  of  occupations  may  make  a  better  society. 

How  can  a  man  truly  love  his  neighbor  except  he 
first  loves  and  respects  himself. 


48 


Whittier  and  Lowell,  Emerson  and  Bryant,  have 
taught  men  a  better  love  of  nature,  and  a  greater  faith 
in  God. 

How  much  better  to  take  up  the  burden  of  life 
cheerfully  than  to  go  mourning  along  the  road ;  when 
we  learn  to  bear  our  cross  bravely,  it  seems  trans- 
formed into  a  crown  of  light. 

There  appears  to  be  a  touch  of  insanity  about  most 
intensely  earnest  people ;  he  who  sees  more  wrongs 
than  he  can  possibly  right  must  ever  seem  to  be  more 
or  less  fanatic. 

One  half  the  trouble  in  life  comes  through  misrep- 
resentation or  misunderstanding. 


49 


Socrates  may  have  been  a  great  philosopher,  but  he 
was  a  very  poor  provider  for  a  family. 

Xantippe  has  been  a  very  much  abused  woman  be- 
cause she  made  objection  to  Socrates  for  talking  and 
dreaming  all  day  in  the  streets  of  Athens,  while  his 
children  needed  bread  at  home. 

It  is  a  difficult  matter  to  feed  the  souls  of  men  while 
their  bodies  are  starving. 

One  should  have  a  fund  of  truth  and  accurate  know- 
ledge to  draw  upon,  when  one  becomes  a  teacher  of 
little  children. 

Truth  will  stand  when  all  things  fail ;  and  could  we 
be  taught  it  in  childhood  we  would  not  have  to  unlearn 
at  sixty  what  we  learned  at  six. 


A  little  song,  a  little  story, 

A  little  fame,  a  little  glory ; 

And  man  moves  forward  in  the  race, 

To  let  another  fill  his  place. 


Agassiz  once  said  that  he  could  not  spare  the  time 
to  make  money;  yet  the  scientific  truths  he  has  left  to 
the  world  have  made  it  richer  than  if  he  had  left  to  us 
gold  and  silver. 

A  man  who  has  but  few  wants  cannot  understand 
the  man  who  would  grasp  and  hold  the  universe. 

When  we  can  accept  the  good  of  all  religions  and 
discard  the  superstition,  we  may  found  a  church 
broad  enough  to  embrace  the  whole  world. 

We  know  that  after  winter  comes  spring,  and  after 
night  comes  morning,  after  sleep  comes  awakening, 
and  we  hope  that  after  death  will  come  eternal  life. 


George  Eliot  and  George  Sand,  two  of  the  greatest 
and  noblest  among  women,  have  been  maligned  and 
persecuted  for  having  dared  to  be  true  to  themselves. 

Some  persons  need  to  have  laws  made  for  them, 
others  are  laws  unto  themselves. 

We  live  a  dual  life,  one  the  practical,  and  one  of 
imagination  and  fancy. 

To  most  poetic  persons  the  real  is  unreal  and  the 
ideal  the  real. 

A  blessed  trinity : 
Father,  Mother,  Child. 


Charlotte  Cushman  in  her  last  visits  to  the  theatre 
said  that  fine  clothes  were  taking  the  place  of  good 
acting;  in  the  rags  of  Meg  Merrilies,  Charlotte  Cush- 
man was  greater  than  are  many  who  walk  the  stage 
in  velvet  and  diamonds. 

To  give  a  child  a  strong  body  and  a  well-trained 
mind  is  better  than  to  make  him  heir  to  millions. 

One  who  has  lived  half  a  century  can  count  more 
friends  who  have  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  si- 
lent river  than  he  can  find  around  him  here. 

We  never  know  how  dear  our  friends  are  to  us,  un- 
til we  see  them  departing  on  the  long  journey  from 
which  no  traveler  has  ever  yet  returned. 


54 


In  sleep  we  dream  of  the  Past:  we  are  again  in  the 
home  of  our  childhood,  where  we  join  our  voices  in 
song  with  father,  mother,  sisters,  and  brothers. 

On  waking  we  dream  of  the  Future,  when  we  hope 
to  sing  again  with  those  who  have  gone  to  join  the 
"  choir  invisible." 


55 


It  is  better  to  be  away  from  your  friend  and  care 
for  him,  than  to  be  near  him  and  wish  yourself  away. 

It  is  not  always  the  happiest  man  who  commands 
our  highest  respect ;  a  great  melancholy  nature  calls 
forth  corresponding  depths  of  tenderness  from  his  fel- 
low-men. 

One  who  drinks  at  the  fountain  of  eternal  life  can 
never  die. 


LOOKING  TOWARD  SUNSET. 

Oh,  when  the  long  day's  work  is  done, 
And  we  clasp  hand  at  set  of  sun, 

Loved  friends  we  meet, 

In  concourse  sweet, 
At  even. 

So,  when  for  us  has  passed  away, 
The  last  bright  hour  of  earthly  day, 

Then  may  we  meet 

In  converse  sweet, 
In  Heaven. 


57 


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